I Am Your Enemy
by EternalOphelia
Summary: HrDr OneShot. Hermione comes to terms with her feelings for a certain blondhaired grayeyed enemy. But how will she deal with these overwhelming and ultimately wrong emotions?


A one-shot Hermione/Draco fic.

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Hermione's breath was rapid, her heart barely kept within the confines of her ribcage. Slowly, over the past year, she had come to realize something about herself, something that she had kept hidden and refused to acknowledge, even when it was staring her blatantly in the face.

But now, clutching her chest in a recessed shadow of the corridor, she could deny it no longer. It was upon her, hard and crushing like a heavy blanket on a hot summer day. She didn't know where the feeling came from all of a sudden, and why it hurt so to breathe, only that it was there, haunting her, pulling at her very soul.

She wanted to cry, to rip out her hair and howl with tears so big they would drown her. She wanted to curse herself over and over; so many times that she was numb and unaware of anything. And especially the emotions that were creeping over her.

_What's wrong with me?_ she thought angrily, banging her fist against the wall. But she was far more scared than angry. Terrified even, for what if Ron or Harry were to learn her secret? There was no way they would understand or accept it. Hell! She hardly understood it! But surely there was a logical explanation for what was happening to her. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her heart. Or perhaps she had accidentally drunk some Love Potion that would cause her to fall for the first person she laid eyes on.

But the more these, and other, scenarios played through her mind, the more she knew that it was none of them. None but the simplest and hardest to swallow.

She held her cupped hand to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. But she kept it down, sighing painfully.

After what could have very well been twenty minutes, Hermione finally stepped out from the shadows, the corridor not birthing a whisper. She skirted the stone walls, her lips shut tight to prevent herself from breathing too loudly and be noticed. And she would have been successful, had it not been for Mrs. Norris, slinking by unheard. She stumbled face first into the floor, crying out sharply.

"Who's there?" called a deep, gruff voice.

She was still and silent, praying that they would just leave or go the other way. But she would have no such luck, for their footfalls began to advance in her direction.

It came to her so fast she hardly had time to think. She whipped out her wand, casting the spell just as they cleared the corner. Immediately another wand was out, but pointed in completely the wrong direction.

"Who's there!"

Hermione stuttered a shaky sigh, gripping her wand so tightly she feared it would break. She had done it now. She had temporarily blinded Draco Malfoy with a spell.

"Tell me who you are!" he demanded, waving his wand steadily. A few years ago he would have been cowering against the wall, trembling with fear for what he could not see before him. Obviously these past few years had hardened him a great deal.

With immense courage, she stepped towards him and touched his shoulder. He jabbed his wand into her gut, causing her to cry out as before, then yanked her hair with his other hand, drawing her to him roughly.

"Who are you?" His face was less than an inch from hers.

"I'm not a friend," she whispered honestly, a tremor in her voice. Surely he would recognize it.

"Certainly not," he spat. "No friend would do this! Now undo it!"

"In a moment," she said boldly, her fingertips brushing his cheek. He froze, his grip on her hair loosening. "B-Be still." She leaned in, pressing her lips to his ever so slightly, giving him room to pull away, room to deny her kiss. But, out of curiosity, or perhaps chauvinism, he leaned in and deepened the kiss, his hand falling from her hair to land on her hip.

She sighed wonderfully into his mouth, a sharp, tingling feeling rising in her.

"Who are you?" he asked again, this time his voice docile.

"An enemy," she said, choked softly with tears. He reached up and touched her wet cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because…because I…" But her nerve was gone as quickly as it'd come. She shrunk away, and only just barely was he able to grab her wrist and pull her back.

"Tell me your name." And his harshness had return to some degree.

"I can't."

His face fought between anger and confusion.

"The spell will wear off in the next five minutes."

He was about to speak, when she snaked out of his grasp and stepped out of his range. He grunted and stumbled forward, nearly dropping his wand.

"There aren't many witches who could cast such a powerful, yet safe spell," he commented, a smirk playing behind his lips.

"No," she agreed. "But don't dwell on this."

He took a few steps forward, one arm outstretched. His fingers were mere inches from her.

"Granger?"

But she was already gone.

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**I don't know what possessed me to write this one-shot, but I think I like it. I might change it later, but it's definitely a one-shot. It has no connection with the sixth book, and this scene took place in their seventh year. I know Hermione was very OOC, but, well, oh well :P**

**REVIEW!**

**P.S. I wrote this in like twenty minutes with no pre-thought.**


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